


It's All Good

by spirogyra



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Gardening, M/M, Rowing, briefly hurt feelings, slices of life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 19:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6127679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirogyra/pseuds/spirogyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thoughtless words, hurt feelings, cryptic statements, the drift makes things easier and more difficult, but in the end… it’s all good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All Good

**Author's Note:**

> written for Laufeystan

Hermann snorts, but Newt ignores it. “You have your hobbies, I have mine, so don’t fucking judge me.”

“That is not a hobby. That is a waste of time.”

Newt hunches his shoulders, closes in on himself while trying to block the monitor from Hermann. “Go to hell, dude.” He loads up his last saved game, but still feeling Hermann behind him, can’t get into it at all. After five minutes, he gives up. Of course he wants to say something stinging, some little poison dart that will pierce all of Hermann’s frumpy layers and stick him right in the heart, but the words just don’t come.

It lances into his brain that if Hermann wants a _hobby_ , Newt can just start mashing on his keyboard, and then they’d see which is better. But Newt isn’t feeling like much of anything, like doing anything; he just wants to retreat, because his last refuge of peace and relaxation has been stomped into the ground.

He gets up, hoping against hope Hermann isn’t watching, and tries to casually leave, but he knows he’s scurrying, running like a mouse.

***

There’s work he can get done in his room, yes. That’s what he’s going to do unless absolutely necessary, because, when he’s all alone, Newt can admit Hermann hurt his feelings. Not that he’s never done it before, but this time it’s sticking, and Newt hates it.

So fuck it. Just fuck everything. He puts away the work, because it’s just bullshit paperwork anyway, and since nobody else really gets what he’s doing, they can wait for him to finish it when he feels like it.

With a sigh, Newt puts his head down on on his arms. Since the breach closed, Newt thought things would go well. The drift provided insight neither of them would ever express. Maybe because they didn’t know how, or they were afraid to. It didn’t matter then, and it sure doesn’t matter now because Hermann doesn’t care.

The longer he sits with his head down, the deeper the frown he feels forming. He stands, frown feeling like it’s changing the way his face is shaped, and goes back to the lab. “Hey!” he says when he sees Hermann sitting in his alcove at one of his many computers.

Hermann looks up, blinking owlishly with his spectacles on. “Wh-”

“Hey, you hurt my feelings, and that’s not cool. And you should’ve known better. I don’t say shit about what you do to relax, OK? So. Yeah.” Before he does something else, says something more that he’ll regret, Newt leaves. It’s better, to let Hermann mull on the words. They were precise and direct, and there wasn’t much room for interpretation (but there was some, so Hermann would probably latch onto that).

Walking more slowly than he feels like (because he wants to run back to his room), Newt listens, hopes to hear Hermann’s distinct step pattern behind him. Then he stands outside his door, waiting until his frown fades. So that’s it.

Something so basic, and Hermann has nothing. No response to something so simple.

It’s just the afternoon, but Newt curls up in his bunk, still in his boots, covers himself with his blanket, and eventually falls asleep.

~

It’s dark when he opens his eyes, and blurry. “Huh?”

“It’s fine.”

Long fingers run across his cheek, then through his hair, and Newt sighs.

“I’m sorry,” Hermann whispers. “I had no right, no reason to say that.” He tugs the blanket down, just a little, to kiss Newt’s neck. “I’ve been unhappy-”

Newt makes a little mewling noise, and tries to pull away, but Hermann puts his arm over Newt’s side and hugs him close.

“Not with you. With the work. I took out my frustration on you. Please forgive me.”

In the dark, Newt reaches for Hermann’s hand, now resting on his stomach. “I don’t know why,” he says quietly, but not whispering, “it hurt so much.”

“It doesn’t matter why, only that it did. I never want to hurt you.” He doesn’t kiss Newt’s neck again, but his mouth is so close that when Hermann speaks, his lips brush over the sensitive skin.

“I-I know. I guess.” Because he doesn’t always feel it, and it seems like the drift didn’t mean anything.

Hermann’s arm tightens again. “No guessing. I told you, I was thoughtless. I think the drift allows me to lash out in a way I wouldn’t before. The familiarity between us, and then it goes too far without thought. I go too far.”

“And sometimes I’m too sensitive.” Newt is, he knows it, but he’s never been able to help it. It’s been more a process of understanding it, knowing why he feels a way, even if it is no reason at all. When he can understand that, Newt finds it easier to manage.

_“I’m not mad at you, Hermann. I’m just mad, okay? It’s not you even though I might kinda take it out on you.”_

“You are you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Hermann knows all the things to say, even when he’s being mean, and he’s sincere about them all, which makes it both great and depressing, and maybe Newt is crying a little. “You still meant it. I know you. I just… I wish you hadn’t said anything. I know you think it’s stupid.”

For several long moments, Hermann just breathes into Newt’s hair, holding him tightly. “It’s not for me. The same way my interests are not for you. We don’t need to be clones of one another to be together.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts. I said something thoughtless, and I’m sorry, very sorry. Please, I don’t want you getting too far into your head about this. Please, Newt.”

“Dude, you know I can’t do that.”

“I know.”

~

Newt wakes up feeling drained, but better at the same time. It doesn’t hurt that Hermann is there, behind him, breathing deeply in sleep. His hand is still on Newt’s stomach, though Newt released it at some point to support his head. His cheek hurt.

He looks to the foot of his bunk where his clock is projecting against the bare concrete wall. It’s too early for him normally, 6:30, but considering how long he slept, Newt doesn’t feel like he needs more sleep. Of course that means getting out of bed without bothering Hermann.

Newt starts to shift, not sure of his exact plan, but it doesn’t matter. With the movement of his body, Hermann’s arm tightens, and he nuzzles into the back of Newt’s neck. He also grinds a little, demonstrating that he is fully hard right into the seat of Newt’s jeans.

It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

***

Hermann looks at Newt, gives him a small smile, maybe even a little embarrassed (which is silly because a little sleepy grinding isn’t any worse than full on fucking, and that’s always good for them), then returns to his work.

Smiling as well, however self-conscious he feels at the moment, Newt sits down in front of the ancient monitor. The chunky old machine starts up with an unmistakable beep, and Newt looks up to see if Hermann noticed. If so, he isn’t letting on, and the relief feels like a rock has melted inside his gut.

Not that it matters; he’s not going to play a game. The relic of a computer he’s at isn’t there just to play games. It runs some software that he cobbled together way back in the day (with help from some guys who were way more into programming than he was) to keep track of data that nobody had ever had to keep track of before. That was what happened when aliens attacked.

Transferring and converting the data before was impossible. The process, when Newt first tried, simply took too long, and time was something not to be wasted. Now, though… “Hermann?”

“Yes, Newton.”

“Was wondering if you could help me out here. I need to rig this old junk box up to some kind of flash drive so I can convert my old data. I could use some detection software for an OS that never even dreamed of a flash drive over a gig.” Newt bats his eyes.

With a put-upon sigh, one that is as familiar to Newt as anything, Hermann comes over and leans down to look at Newt’s screen. He adjusts his glasses.

Newt grins like an idiot at the gesture.

“Give me three hours to finish up what I’m doing.”

“Great. Thanks, man. Now that I’ve got time to think about it, I don’t like having all my important shit on a not easily accessible computer. See, I’m growing up.”

“Indeed. More importantly, when you have this work finished, you’re free to pursue whatever research you’d like at your own pace.”

That is the dream, but… “Don’t think I’ll get any kind of funding for that. I’ll probably go back to my pre-breach work. It’s no aliens, but it’s loads more interesting than paperwork.” For a moment, Newt expects Hermann to ask, but then remembers he doesn’t need to.

Hermann knows. Hermann knows because of the drift, and he knows because of course Newt gushed about it in their letters.

“A noble and worthy pursuit. In fact, I would be more than happy to walk away from all this, to never explore the physics behind the breach again.” Hermann’s hand falls on Newt’s shoulder, and the wieght of it is all in the man’s tone of voice. “I’ve come to appreciate my former work more than I ever believed I might.”

With a chuckle, Newt shakes his head. “You don’t. You just liked the job security.”

“And the work space I didn’t have to share.”

Newt unleashes a raspberry point blank. “Well, when I get back to tissue research, you won’t have to worry. That business is all clean room. No chalk dust allowed.” He sighs, and Hermann’s hand lingers on his shoulder for longer than is professional.

***

Newt sits on the edge of his bunk and looks down at his stomach. It’s mostly disguised by the tattoos, but he can feel it. “I’m getting fat.”

“Nonsense,” Hermann says as he strips off his undershirt. “You’re getting older. It happens.”

“Not to you. You’re still all lean and muscly. Look at that V cut. Just makes me want to grab and hang on.”

But Hermann shakes his head. “You’re being silly. You never saw me when I was younger. It was much better looking back then.”

Newt flops backwards. “Just kill me right now. I should have just pushed you against the wall and pulled your clothes off the moment we met. I’m such a dummy.”

“We would have never worked back then. Get in the bed properly.” He waits until Newt arranges himself under the covers, thin pillow barely propping his head up, then gets in next to him. “We were both too stubborn.”

“Still are.” They fit against one another, carefully, because Newt likes his arms one way and Hermann doesn’t like too much weight on his hip, and it’s nice after a long day. “But I guess we figured it out.” Newt’s eyes slide shut, and he hears the click as Hermann turns off the light. A few more moments of shifting, arranging, and then they’re still and silent together.

It’s good.

***

“Dude, I can do my work anywhere someone is willing to give me space and money.”

“But we-”

“Come on, just say yes. Say yes because you want to. Don’t say no because you’re afraid.” Newt holds Hermann’s hands, and it’s probably tighter than he should, but he doesn’t want to let go, like ever.

Hermann takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

Newt stares, then smiles so widely his face hurts. “Really? You really mean it?”

“Newton.”

He means it. Of course he does, because Hermann wouldn’t say it if he didn’t. Newt just hopes he’s as happy necause he really doesn’t look like it at the moment. Hermann looks like he’s not sure what he just agreed to.

“Dude.”

“We’re not going to England.”

There it’s sunk in. “Germany?”

Hermann makes a pained look. “Much like you, I can work anywhere that would have me. We’ll explore our options. Please stand up.”

“So yes?” Newt asks as he stands, hears his knee pop.

“I said yes. And I thought discussing where to settle once we’re free of this place confirmed it.”

Hermann looks annoyed, but that’s par for the course. There are little details in that annoyance that Newt can read now that tell him how serious it is, how likely Hermann is to walk out of the room. Currently, it’s zero chance. Non-annoyed annoyance is different from the idea that he might suddenly change his mind though. “Do you-”

“I said yes, Newton.” Hermann takes hold of Newt’s hands, and when he continues speaking, it’s gently. “Newt.” And that’s it.

Newt melts and stops questioning him.

***

The sleepy thoughts always get him in trouble. One step away from dreaming, filter almost nil, it’s why he ends up saying, “Being husbands sounds so dumb.” He feels Hermann’s body go stiff next to him, but doesn’t put together why. “It’s so… antiquated. Married is such a stupid word too. It’s like it doesn’t even apply to us because my entire life it’s been for a _man_ and a _woman_ , and that’s fine. I don’t even want to be part of that iron-fisted church shit. Give me the government paperwork, just let us be legally recognized, and I’m good with that.”

“What are you saying?”

Newt opens his eyes a little wider to take in the strange pinched look on Hermann’s face. Not the usual pinched look; this is something new. “Marriage is dumb.”

“Then-” Hermann makes a strangled squawking noise. “Then why did you ask?”

“Huh?”

“If you didn’t want to get married, why did you ask?” Now Hermann’s actually getting upset.

Newt reacts like it’s the dumbest question in the word. “Because I want to. I just think it’s dumb.” He’s more awake now, but he’s still not sure why Hermann’s reacting so harshly. “I’m not having a ceremony, I’m not dressing up. Just going in to fill out the forms and calling it a day.”

“You stupid man.” Hermann relaxes, head to toe, and he cradles Newt close. “I thought you meant you didn’t-” The words are choked back.

“Oh! Oh. Oh shit. No! No, I didn’t mean that at all!” And Newt’s wide awake now. “I just meant I didn’t care about that sideshow. That ‘celebration’… I don’t want it, you know?”

It takes a moment, and Hermann’s eyes are unreadable in the dark, but he does answer, “I know. Your family…?”

“A visit, or long stay, is enough. And yours-”

“A phone call will do. It’s not in my nature.”

“Will I ever get to meet them? I mean, you’re not, like, embarrassed of me or anything, are you?”

Hermann takes a deep breath, and his voice comes out breathlessly. “Never.”

“That’s totally the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“I love you.”

“Nope, that is. I love you too. You’re amazing.”

Hermann’s thumb brushes his cheek. “Are you crying?”

Maybe technically he is, but Newt shakes his head. “Just kinda teary-eyed. It’s like everything is coming together now, instead of back when it actually happened. We drifted, proving we’re ultimately compatible; we closed the breach; we exchanged the l-word; I think you’re totally hot and you put up with my donut body; and now we’re gonna get hitched and… move forward. WIth life. Without monsters.”

“You’re so talkative when you’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“Obviously it had to be worked through. I would’ve hated to have this discussion when you’re out buying a wedding dress or something.”

“If anyone was more likely to buy a dress, it’s you.”

Newt shrugs. “Probably. But it doesn’t matter. We’re all square, right? I mean you’re okay with not doing the whole ceremony shebang?”

“Yes. That’s perfectly fine.”

“Great.” Newt kisses Hermann, barely more than a peck on the lips, but they’re both smiling after as they re-settle to sleep.

*** *** *** ***

Their property is on a lake, down a dirt road lined with small houses. The lake is not deep, maybe two meters at its deepest, and it’s not meant for swimming. The water is cloudy, brown and green, filled with plant and animal life. Newt loves it.

They have a dock. Newt insists on repairing it, fixing the loose boards and shoring up the posts. He ties the rowboat up to it, and leaves a resin fiber Adirondack chair out for relaxing.

That’s what Hermann is doing right now, with a book in his hand that he’s, obviously, hardly reading.

Newt’s ready to take his weekly samples (which the university and the city both appreciate), and is settling on the boat’s seat. He’s been at this for months now, and is kind of an expert at rowboats now. He pushes away with an oar, uses one to turn to the middle of the water, dips the other in the water, and begins to row.

It’s weirdly meditative, just the repetitive motion and the tranquility of the still water, and Newt keeps his eyes on Hermann. Another person living on the lake has a boat, he can see it tied up, but he’s never seen the person out with it. There are several ducks over there now, keeping their distance from Newt.

When Newt arrives in the middle-ish of the lake to gather his water samples, he just sits to look around himself. Even though the sun is high and Newt is sweating, he thinks about a clear and moonless night, stars reflecting on the water, and stripping down to nothing with Hermann out on the dock. He’ll have to check the calendar.

With his three baby food jars full and secure, Newt turns the boat back. He watches the white heron standing in the reeds on the far side and feels Hermann watching him. He ignores it, focusing instead on the rhythmic movement of his arms and shoulders, the twist of his wrists and hands as he turns the oars, and the stretch in his back as he propels himself backwards.

The first time he tried this, less than five meters from the dock and he turned back. His shoulders and arms had ached for days after, much to Hermann’s consternation. and now, he can think of very few things more relaxing than that repetitive motion. It’s the beauty in biology.

“Did I ever tell you the first man I was undeniably attracted to, physically, was on the rowing team?”

Newt saves his reply until the boat’s moored and he has both feet on the dock. “No. It wasn’t me? Are you sure?”

“I said physically.” They fall in step next to each other, heading back to the house. “Intellectually, I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

“You’re a god damned peach.”

“I have no fruit-based compliments. Except perhaps something relating to bananas.”

Newt laughs so hard he almost drops his samples.

***

Seven months on, this should be easy. It’s not. Hermann still disapproves of most of what Newt does, but it’s generally minor stuff. _Probably_ that purple zebra stripe pillow didn’t go with the rest of the room decor, so Newt just put it on the bed. And as much as he liked it, they didn’t need a novelty kaiju mug. Plain handles on their silverware won’t kill anyone, and Hermann was right that it’s much easier to wash than the cool looking vine handles.

But Newt doesn’t let Hermann talk him out of his amateur baking efforts (because after a couple of mistakes, his stuff is just fine, good even). Then he actively encourages Hermann’s fancier cooking, because good food is good food even if it has a fancy name. He doesn’t share in the appreciation for wine though; it’s just not his thing.

“Herm, check this out.” He stands up, backs away to take in the whole thing. His hands are caked with dirt.

Hermann looks out the door. “Very good. When will the herbs be ready to pick?”

“If you only need, like, a leaf or two, it’s fine right now, but it’s pretty standard with plants that you have to give them time to adjust, get seated, let their roots out, so to speak.” The idea of a real herb garden was discussed until the deer were spotted one evening nibbling on the flowers that separates their yard from the neighbor’s. This small garden on shelves is better protected from the wildlife and probably more convenient.

The sun is high, so Newt uses the spray bottle to moisten the new plants. It’s something so simple, but he smiles at the water droplets gathered on the small green leaves. It’s domestic, it’s normal. It’s something he didn’t know he wanted so much.

“Wash your hands please.” Hermann knows he’s done, some residual thread of connectivity that’s never gone. They don’t question it, don’t talk about it; it’s just an aspect of their relationship unique to them. They won’t be studied.

“Actually,” Newt says inside and kicking off his shoes, “I’m gonna take a bath.”

“Newton, dinner-”

“Just come and get me when it’s done. Sheesh.”

Half an hour later, while he’s soaking in the water, not asleep, just drifting in the warmth and relaxation, Hermann comes in. “Ten minutes.”

“Get in here with me.” Newt doesn’t even open his eyes.

“Dinner in ten minutes.”

“Get in here in a hurry then.”

“Damn it, Newton.”

Newt cracks open one eye to see Hermann hesitating, and smiles.

Dinner burns, so they order in. It’s all good.


End file.
